Our Hearts' Dear Companions
by LaMissile
Summary: Baruch and Balthamos fluff! Technically considered slash. Drabbles.How can you not love them? T because...I don't really know.
1. Chapter 1

There is simply not enough fluff for Baruch and Balthamos. I probably the only person who cheered when Balthamos killed Father Gomez, I love them so much. If I keep thinking of stuff to write, or you have suggestions, I'll keep drabbling on and on and on and on.

Disclaimer: I really don't own much of anything, much less two angels and plot lines.

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Whatever you may think, it is possible for us angels to feel cold. Countles times we sat together with our wings around one another, whether to conserve heat or for mutual...affection, I don't know. It was a delicate shell of protection, our security blanket. We were quite convinced that no amount of fur or blankets would ever be the same. The rare times we were apart, which we tried our best to forget, the cold numbed us to our core. With our wingtips against our faces, we awoke sneezing many times. 

What I would give to wake up with a sneeze.

I wipe away another tear with an extroadinarily lonely wingtip.

"Baruch, my heart's dear companion, I am so cold and it isn't even night yet."


	2. Do you trust me?

Have another drabble. Yes, this did come to me while watching Titanic.

Disclaimer: I really don't own much of anything, certainly not what I'm writing about.

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Trust is one of the most important parts of any relationship. Balthamos and I take it to a new level.

Would you trust your angel to bring you to a new world when you knew nothing of it?

I have. It was the scariest thing I've ever done and yet Balthamos made it worth it.

Would you trust your angel to lift you above the waters of the deepest ocean?

He once held me with his arms under my own, using all his strength and more from somewhere only he knows to raise us, up, up,up over the world. I have no idea how long he raised me up. It felt like forever and ever.

Would you trust your angel that long?

I will.

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I love my reviewers. It's taken too long to kickstart my muse, but it's worth it. 


	3. Angelo of the Minoans

A nice reviewer, Author sama277, asked for this. Yes, I've nothing better to do.

Disclaimer: I really don't own much of anything, and Baruch and Balthamos would probably too expensive, anyway.

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It was simple to him now, after all these practice sessions. Baruch understood the bull, knew that it was as powerful as the sea, which was why the goddess had chosen the animal as her symbol. Far too many sailors had underestimated the sea, and many bull-leapers had done the same with their own task. He knelt before his priestesses to recieve their blessing before approaching the mighty bull. The ranking woman raised her labrys, spoke the blessing and the rest was up to Baruch. 

In the open square, normally filled with fishermen selling their catch, looked no smaller than usual as it was filled to capacity with-instead of the stinking fish-the public of Crete dressed in their finest. This was the most important festival of the year, and none would miss it or suffer the disapproval of the goddess. The bull, who ironically resembled Baruch, as the man was noticably more heavyset than his fellow athletes' whipcord-like bodies, was held in the best golden halter the king of the Minoans could afford. It was the most expensive looking device Baruch had ever seen. The halter would never be used again; the priestesses knew how to sacrifice anything to their goddess, no matter what the material cost. Baruch hesitated in his stride and offered a prayer to the sea goddess, worried that this thought might slight her somehow. Best to be careful in his business.

He looked across the square to Alcyone, a signal much practiced. She nodded and without hesitation released her terrified captive upon him. The whites of its eyes were visible to Baruch as it charged for him. He swerved and sidestepped to get a straighter run, as crooked attempts often failed. Perhaps it was the nervous quiver of his legs, but the bull swung his head in time to tear Baruch's bare calf with his horn. He didn't notice, until the crowd roared louder than normal when he grasped the horns of the animal and leaped over its bucking and twisting back. Baruch landed behind the bull, which was promtly distracted by Alcyone, it was her run now. He was hurried over to Ander, her brother and another bull-leaper, who tended briskly and efficiently to the freely bleeding gash in Baruch's flesh. Ander looked up from his task, and the wounded man was suprised to see awe written across his tan and handsome features.

"What have I done?", asked Baruch. Ander was a better athlete than he, strong and lithe but quiet too, and normally not given to the emotion now present in his brown eyes.

"You looked like an angel, flying above the sea...Your blood," he made a motion with his free hand, resembling a wave, "Your blood arced behind you, it looked like you had wings." Ander resumed binding the wound. When he finished, Ander grinned slightly and said, "They want you back on the bull now. They will be disappointed that you are missing your wings, Angelo." True enough, the crowd was chanting 'Angelo' as the bull-leapers made their exhausted sacrifice dance before them.

Baruch snorted, "What sort of angel would I make? Flying over a bull?"

Far, far above, Balthamos shrugged and whispered under his breath, "We will see."

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Huh, I like this. It's given me inspiration for another one, dealing mainly with the priestess' labrys, which is the double-headed axe the Minoan priestesses used. 


	4. Stuck in Place

I'm sticking to my theory that Baruch was a Minoan in early Crete life. Cause it works for me.

Italics are thoughts.

Disclaimer: Same thing. Don't do nuthin to me, I'm innocent.

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_Angelos? As names go, I suppose worse ones have been invented. It can't be unlucky either, to remind people of an angel._

I looked up at the clouds, the supposed halls of such great beings.

_All the way up there. I wonder if they get vertigo. Do the mother angels have to be careful of their fledglings falling off the edge? Do they even have young? Or are they really the dead, as some claim?_

I considered waving to my mother, who, if the last option was true, was up there. No, I decided. Ander was nearby and he might have thought the bull had hit me too hard. No proper Minoan waves at the sky above.

Of course, I wasn't a proper Minoan. Not that Ander knew that. I didn't plan on telling him.

_Are you lonely up there, angels?_

It was hard to be earthbound. I supposed that was why it was such a captivating challenge to leap over a bull. The freedom of leaving the captivity of the ground was too enticing.

_Are you skybound? If so, what freedom is that?_

They are one and the same as us. My eyes drifted away from the clouds. They had lost their appeal.

_Angelos. Better names have been invented._


End file.
